


Living Quarters

by nagi_schwarz



Series: The Thellas Chronicles [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-01 23:24:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10203194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Stargate Multiverse, Any, not liking a person but really getting along with their Tok’ra."Major Lorne is useless, but Rodney likes Thellas.Set in early Season 2. References to audiobooks.





	

Rodney didn’t like Major Lorne. Honestly, he didn’t like most military personnel in general. Sure, they protected him, but they weren’t nice to him. He liked John, because John was smart, and he’d liked Ford, because the kid was - enthusiastic, and also it was hard not to like a guy who’d saved his life on as regular a basis as Ford had.

The thing about Lorne was that he wasn’t even that useful. He had no redeeming qualities - he was surly and sarcastic - and the few times he’d been useful offworld it hadn’t actually been him who was useful.

It was Thellas, his Tok’ra partner. Partner? Roommate? They shared something rather more significant than a room. But they did share _living quarters_.

When Ford had come for them, tried to blast them with a Wraith stunner, Thellas had activated the Goa’uld ribbon device Lorne apparently always wore offworld and shielded them both from the blast, and then he’d used the device to blast Ford into a tree and knock him unconscious long enough to get him back to the gate and into Beckett’s care.

And then when everything was going down with Rodney getting stuck with Cadman in his body, apparently Lorne had combined the fire power of his RPG with his hand device and shot down one of the Wraith darts that had unexpectedly arrived on the planet.

Really, Major Lorne wasn’t useful at all. He’d shipped over on the Daedalus with a new batch of soldiers Rodney would have to break in. John’s new second-in-command, an intimidating woman named Major Teldy, didn’t seem all that inclined to allow Rodney to bend the new soldiers to his will, and Major Lorne, who was ostensibly the new logistics officer, rarely seemed impressed when Rodney made requests for innocuous items, like more power bars for offworld missions.

So Rodney was quite nonplussed when Major Lorne showed up in the lab one day and proceeded to hover just behind Rodney’s left shoulder. He watched Rodney work and made those infuriating wordless noises doctors made when they were going to tell you either there was nothing wrong with you or you had a terminal illness, and finally Rodney, who was doing very important work on what could prove the definitive weapon against the Wraith, couldn’t take it any longer.

“What are you doing in my lab?” he demanded. “You’re useless here.”

Lorne fixed him with that unimpressed look he had for pretty much everyone and everything on Atlantis, including the Marines and Ronon who were all much taller and stronger-looking than him.

And then he opened his mouth and the voice that came out wasn’t human at all.

“My apologies, Dr. McKay. I informed Evan that I was curious about your work, and he was kind enough to take a break from his regular duties to let me observe you.”

Several people in the lab cried out. Kusanagi screamed and dove under her desk.

Lieutenant Nealson, fresh off the _Daedalus_ and basically Gene on Deck for the labs, drew his sidearm in a flash, had it aimed right at Lorne.

Rodney knew Lorne was also a Tok’ra, and he’d never met a Tok’ra or a Goa’uld in person, but the flare of yellow in the man’s eyes and his voice were very disconcerting.

“Doc, step away -” Nealson began.

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Does no one read their memos anymore? Thellas is a Tok’ra.”

Nealson blinked. Lowered his gun only slightly.

Thellas inclined his head politely. “Apologies. I had no wish to cause anyone alarm. Evan can go back to work if -”

“No, it’s fine, stay,” Rodney said. “That was pretty handy, what you did with that hand device. When Ford was coming after us.”

Ford had been detoxed off of the Wraith enzyme and been sent back to Earth for further medical treatment. John hoped he’d come back to Atlantis, but Rodney wasn’t so sure.

“Evan is always in control during combat,” Thellas said.

Kusanagi peeked up over the edge of her desk.

Nealson finally holstered his sidearm, then turned back to Zelenka, who was gaping like a goldfish. “Shall we try again, Doc?”

Zelenka nodded shakily, and then no one was staring at Rodney anymore, which was just fine.

“So, Thellas,” Rodney said, “what did you do? With the Tok’ra.”

“Whatever was necessary. Combat. Espionage. Engineering. Medical treatment. I had several centuries to learn whatever I wished, really. Evan has suggested we modify the Tok’ra tunnel crystal technology to allow Pegasus Natives to live underground in case of Wraith attack. Like bomb shelters, he says.” Thellas leaned in, peered at the screen of Rodney’s laptop. “I understand you have found a power source that may replace a zero-point module?”

“Project Arcturus,” Rodney said.

Thellas tilted his head, gaze going distant, while he contemplated. “You believe that this project is viable? Even though the Ancients running the experiments died.”

“Like I told Elizabeth,” Rodney said, “they were under immense pressure, were desperate, made mistakes, failed.”

“But the exotic particles you create by drawing energy from vacuum space could have catastrophic effects,” Thellas said.

Rodney huffed. “What would you know about it?”

Thellas said, “Let me tell you about the _Gift of the Gods_.”

Thellas’s story, about a Goa’uld device that would create an alternate dimension when carried through a Stargate and use that Stargate to keep the gate open much longer than thirty-eight minutes, allowing total destruction of the forces on the other side of the gate and an eventual slingshot of energy between two gates when the alternate dimension faded, was interesting, but not instructive.

“But we’re drawing energy from our own dimension, not an alternate dimension.”

Thellas shrugged. “Either way, exotic particles will be the result.”

So, maybe Thellas wasn’t that useful. He was more interesting than Major Lorne, at least.

Who had pictures of not one but five beautiful women in his locker, Rodney noticed when they were headed back to the planet to finally fire up Arcturus.

“Your girlfriends?” Rodney arched an eyebrow.

Lorne fixed him with that unreadable but definitely grim look, and then he said, “Thellas’s old hosts.” He slammed his locker and stomped out of the locker room.

Well, that was weird.

Rodney and ended up in the same jumper as Lorne instead of Sheppard for heading back over to the planet to the Arcturus lab. Major Kersey was piloting, and Captain Kennedy was his copilot, so Rodney ended up huddled on the back passenger bench beside Lorne, clutching his tablet to his chest like a shield.

Then Lorne turned to him, and his eyes flared yellow.

“Do not mind Evan,” Thellas said. “All of my previous hosts were female, and our blending was a matter of life-and-death, and he is still sometimes uncomfortable with my - curiosity about the male form. He was kind enough to recreate images of my previous hosts.”

“Recreate?” Rodney thought back to the pictures in the locker. They’d been photographs.

Thellas nodded. “He has colored pencils.” He made a scribbling motion with one hand.

“Your previous hosts were - pretty,” Rodney offered.

“Having a pleasing form often smooths the way for espionage tasks,” Thellas said.

That made sense. Rodney nodded. And then he said, “Wait, does that mean you’re a...a girl? In...in there?”

“All symbiotes are genderless, by your standards,” Thellas said, “except for queens, but any symbiote with the appropriate host can procreate with the queen to spawn more symbiotes. But I do identify as female, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Rodney blinked. “Oh. Well. Then, hi, uh, Miss Thellas.”

“Just Thellas is fine, Dr. McKay.”

“You can call me Rodney.”

Thellas inclined his - her? Her! - head politely. “Thank you, Rodney.”

No wonder Lorne was cranky all the time. He had a girl living inside of him.

Now that Rodney knew, he could see it. When Thellas was in control, her movements were slower, more controlled. Graceful, but not quite effeminate. When Lorne was in control - and he was in control as soon as the jumper landed - his movements were the kind Rodney knew from John and Ford and so many other soldiers, disciplined and purposeful and a little too savage, too forceful to be graceful.

Rodney pushed aside wondering about Lorne and Thellas and their complicated physical relationship and headed into the lab.

This could be the answer. This could save all of humanity in the Pegasus Galaxy.

And then it happened.

The explosion.

Collins dead.

One moment everything was fine, the readings were going, and the next -

There was shouting.

Someone grabbed Rodney and flung him to the ground. A familiar humming filled his ears, and then -

“Stay down, Rodney.” Thellas was speaking in his ear.

“What happened?” Rodney demanded.

There was a scream, and Rodney heard a name - _Collins_ \- and everything fell apart.

Caldwell was an unexpected ally in Rodney’s insistence that they pursue Project Arcturus, sharing in Rodney’s intellectual self-confidence for once. Collins was dead; that was horrible. Rodney would never forget the stench of burned flesh. But they had to see this through, had to give themselves every opportunity possible to fend off - and defeat - the Wraith.

John was wary, but he agreed to accompany Rodney for further trials.

Everyone in Elizabeth’s office looked surprised when Lorne said, “Thellas would like to accompany Rodney was well.”

John raised his eyebrows. “Rodney?”

Lorne’s eyes flashed yellow, and Thellas said, “I have some experience with exotic particle weapons, and also Rodney is one of Atlantis’s most valuable assets. Extra security would not be amiss.”

Thellas had shielded Rodney with her _kara kesh_ when the explosion happened.

“Also, as a scientist,” Thellas continued, “I will be able to assist Rodney while Colonel Sheppard oversees security at the lab.”

Caldwell looked downright spooked.

Elizabeth considered for a long moment, then nodded. “It’s not a bad proposal, Major Lorne, Thellas. Go with Rodney and John. Keep them safe.”

It was Lorne who said, “Yes, ma’am.”

John was much smarter than most people gave him credit for, and he was perfectly capable of assisting Rodney in the lab, but Thellas’s hands on the control consoles were calmer, confident, smooth and practiced.

So John hung around, hands on his P-90, and ‘maintained security’.

He peppered Lorne with questions, which was irritating, because Lorne wasn’t useful in this situation - if ever - and Rodney needed Thellas’s help.

Rodney learned that Lorne had grown up in California, attended the Academy, was trained as a cargo pilot but had his 302 wings, and attained his masters in geophysics. He’d served as a surveyor on a mining team back at the SGC, harvesting naquadah for battle cruisers. He’d come to Atlantis because he was looking for a change, and he had the Gene.

That gave Rodney pause. “You have the Gene? _And_ naquadah in your blood?”

“That I do, Doc,” Lorne drawled.

It was kind of disturbing, actually, to see his hands moving with Thellas’s confidence and grace but hear his voice instead of hers.

John questioned Lorne about his affinity for sports; he had none. John questioned Lorne about his hobbies; art, as his mother was an art teacher.

Judging by the pictures in his locker, he was good at art.

“Art’s not that useful as skill,” Rodney couldn’t help but say.

Lorne arched his eyebrows. “Like I said, it’s a hobby.”

Thellas said, “The ability to recreate observed phenomena from an experiment that was not otherwise recorded is a useful scientific skill. Evan has an excellent visual memory.”

Rodney considered that. “Fair point. Now, if you would go adjust that sensor over there -” He gestured.

Thellas nodded and crossed the lab. Rodney told John that they were reaching critical stages, and John understood, ceased distracting Lorne - and Thellas - with questions.

Everything went wrong.

John was furious, Rodney was indignant. Lorne, as always, was unreadable. Rodney squawked indignantly when Lorne slung Rodney into a fireman’s hold, activated the ribbon device, and hauled ass to the jumper.

For a guy who was the same height as Rodney, Lorne was damn strong.

And then Rodney realized. Not Lorne. Thellas. Having a symbiote meant he had superhuman strength and reflexes and healing.

Thellas plunked Rodney down on one of the benches and dove into the copilot seat.

John had the jumper fired up before his hands were even on the controls, and then they were headed for the space gate. They had to get out before everything blew, before the planet blew, before -

Rodney couldn’t look at anyone when they landed in the gateroom. Made his report to Elizabeth and Caldwell, headed to his quarters, and collapsed facedown on his bed, too numb to even cry.

Five-sixths of a solar system.

John hadn’t been able to look at him.

He hadn’t been able to look at Thellas, who’d nodded when Zelenka said something about exotic particles.

The fact that the solar system was uninhabited was luck on Rodney’s part.

Well, it had been uninhabited by humans. But there was no telling what plant and animal life had been destroyed forever, completely wiped out of existence, something that might have cured cancer or AIDs or -

The door to his quarters hissed open.

Rodney didn’t move. He’d locked his doors. Only a strong gene carrier, like John or Carson, could have overridden the lock. If he just pretended he was asleep, he could -

The scent of coffee wafted toward him, and he twitched.

He said, “Go away.”

Thellas said, “Evan thought you might want some coffee.”

Rodney pushed himself up, sat on the edge of his bed. Thellas stood over him, holding out a mug that was more like a soup bowl with a handle.

“Evan says you take it straight black.” Thellas held out the mug. “But he made it Irish.”

Rodney, who’d accepted the mug, paused. “Irish?”

Thellas nodded. “He said you would want something a little stronger.”

Rodney sipped the coffee and - oh. That was good. Thellas hadn’t been kidding about the Irish. There was actual Bailey’s in there.

“So.” Rodney eyed Thellas, who was still standing over him. “You were right. About the exotic particles.”

Thellas shrugged. “I have been wrong many times as well. I have lived longer, so I have been wrong more often.”

“It doesn’t average out? Over time?” Rodney asked. “Shouldn’t you be right more often the more experience you get?”

“In some things, where there is practice and repetition,” Thellas said. “But life is very unpredictable. As are people.”

Rodney sipped some more coffee, felt warmth seep through his limbs. “John’s angry at me.”

“Your arrogance cost you much.” Thellas shrugged.

“Well, thanks for that boost of confidence.”

“Confidence is not what you need right now,” Thellas said.

“What do I need?”

“Irish coffee, for starters. And, perhaps, you will teach me to play chess?” Thellas nodded at the chessboard half-poking out of a box in the corner.

“Don’t all officers know how to play chess?” But Rodney went to fetch the board anyway.

“Evan knows, but I do not. Though we are, in many ways, one, we are not the same, and I would like to learn.” Thellas perched delicately on the edge of the bed and smiled at Rodney.

“Well, I am a good teacher,” Rodney said. He laid out the chessboard and began setting up the pieces. “What does Lorne do, while you’re, uh, in the driver’s seat?”

“Sometimes he observes,” Thellas said, “as I do for him. Other times he sleeps, as I do. It is why Tok’ra appear to others to need no sleep.”

“Do...do you like him?” Rodney asked.

“I love him, for he saved my life.”

Rodney blinked. “Oh. But you saved his life too, didn’t you?”

“That I did, and he loves me in return.”

Rodney felt uncomfortable, talking about Lorne like he wasn’t there - and maybe he wasn’t but his body was there. Surely his brain was processing and storing the input Thellas was receiving?

“But we do not always like each other, and we understand, if someone likes one of us but not the other of us.” Thellas smiled, and wow, Lorne had dimples.

Was that one of Lorne’s smiles, or Thellas’s?

“Fair enough.” Rodney cleared his throat, smiled back, then slid into teaching mode. “All right, first is the pawn.”


End file.
